


The Jonas Brothers got nothing on you

by KeepGoing



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 2nd person POV, Choking, Cum Eating, Daddy!Kink, Did I mention its filthy?, Dirty Talk, Don't worry its not like THAT., Episode 11/3 related, Exploration, Jonas brothers reference, M/M, Mickey POV, NO LIKE REALLY, Porn, This is pure filth, Top!Ian because apparently I need tag that now, You've been warned, kinky boys, spitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28204932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepGoing/pseuds/KeepGoing
Summary: Set a few days past episode 11.3Mickey and Ian explore more of their kinks.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 13
Kudos: 191





	The Jonas Brothers got nothing on you

**Author's Note:**

> Guys. This is like pure filth. Like seriously. I'm almost embarrassed. You've been warned. 
> 
> But as always comments are LOVE.
> 
> Jesus. I need a cold shower.

“So, we should like do that thing.” 

Ian raises his eyebrow slightly at you, or at least he tries to. His eyebrows don’t have the same power as yours, but he gets some credit for his effort to show flirtation in the expression. 

“You wanna be Nick or Joe?” 

You click your tongue against your teeth and frown. “Not that man, you know the other thing.” You pull off your sweats and leave them in a heap on the floor by the bed and crawl across the small bed toward Ian who is sitting against the headboard, fingers holding his place in some faggoty as book he’s reading. 

“Oh.” Ian’s eyes light up then cloud over and he sets his book down on the bedside table, almost knocking over your beer. “That thing.” 

“Yeah.” You rub your hands along your bare knees and he gives you that smirk that somehow gets you to half chub in seconds. 

“Mmm.” Ian leans forward, running is hands up your arms until they land and sprawl out along your shoulders and collar bone. “All of it?” 

His fingers are lightly feathering along your neckline and a rush of air escapes your lungs and you should be embarrassed how much of a bitch you get like, because let's face it, you talk a real good fucking game, but Ian owns you like this. With his large strong hands and body and the way he looks at you almost like he still can't believe he has you, when he’s always fucking had you. 

“Please.” You whisper and a low growl rumbles in his chest and then his strong arms are under your ass and you’re flipped onto your back so quickly, it knocks the wind right out of you. 

He traces his fingertips down the veins in your neck, circling your clavicle and down around his misspelled name on your chest and his expression softens for a moment before darkness clouds over in his eyes again and you can't look away. 

“You gonna be a good boy, Mick? No tryin’ to flip script this time? You do it my way and my way, only?” 

“Yes.” You breathe out, your body betraying you, like it always does when it comes to him. 

“That’s my good boy.” He finally gives you his mouth and your tongues tangle before your lips even touch and you both moan as he presses his body against yours. You can feel his 9 inches nestled between your own cock and the inside of your thigh and you shiver slightly and he just wraps his hands around your head, grounding you to the bed and him. He knows you can float outside your body when you do this with him, but he knows how to reel you back into the moment easily with certain touches and movements. It’s years of knowing your body better than you do, even though this new thing you’re slowly becoming addicted to, has only really been going on about a month. 

Ian brings his hand up to your mouth and gives you a stern look. “Open.” It’s almost pathetic how fast your lips part and he slides two fingers deep into your mouth; your throat gagging around them. Ian hums softly and works his fingers between your lips and you coat them with your saliva, pulling them deep into your mouth like you know he wants and expects. You promised, after all. 

His wet fingers pop out of your mouth and he shifts onto his side. You know this part; none of this is new; and he finds your hole when you spread your legs like some kind of whore. But you are. You are his whore. You’re not ashamed. Look at him. How could you not be? He knows what you like so he doesn’t tease you or take his time. Both of his spit-soaked fingers are pushed into you without warning and you grunt and arch your back as he breathes against your neck. 

“That’s it. Take it. You said you’re fine with just spit. That’s what you get. Isn't it?” 

“Yes,” You pant out against his cheek as you press your mouth against his face. He’s leaving tiny bite marks against your neck; just small little nips of teeth as he works his fingers inside you and this part, this part if just you two. No role playing. No scene. No weird fetishes. Just you and Ian, enjoying the euphoria of it all. The lust. The want. You already feel yourself slipping into that ‘here but not here’ state and you’ve taken probably every drug out there at some point in your life, but this, this kind of high, could never fucking compare. 

“You know I didn’t mean it about your body.” Ian whispers as he licks long trails over your neck, down your chest and to your nipple. “I fucking love it. I love the way you feel. The way you look. You’re nothing but all fucking man to me. Fucking turns me on so much.” 

You swallow thickly at his words, because the truth is, those words the other day did in fact hurt your precious little feelings. Because you know you don’t look like all the other guys Ian’s been with. You know you’re softer and shorter and paler and all the things you have hang ups about, but the compliments settle beneath your skin and hopefully stay there for a future issue when you’re staring in the mirror and have a day of self-hatred. 

You tighten around his fingers at the praise and he lifts his eyes to yours and it's like a light bulb goes off in his head. He’s told you what a good boy you are before, he knows you get off on that shit, but it's like he suddenly realizes he’s not the only one who likes to be told how fucking hot they are from time to time. “You like that, huh? You like to know how sometimes during the day I’ll think of you and instantly get fucking hard? How my balls get so full and tight just thinking about unloading in you? How the idea of just running my hands down your body makes me almost blow my load?” 

You moan and bite at his jaw and even though his other fingers aren't wet from your mouth, he slides them into your hole, stretching you wide and it burns and you feel too full and too sensitive but if he stops finger fucking you, you might actually die. Ian kisses you; sucking every emotion out of you into his mouth; and you dig your fingers nails into the back of his head. You’re pleading with your mouth for him to fuck you. You’re shaking with anticipation. You need it. It’s a scary thing to feel. You’ve never needed anything your entire life until you met Ian. You barely even needed food. But you need Ian. You need everything about him. And this is how you two communicate. Talking has never been your guys strong suit; as much as Ian likes to think he’s the king of communication; so, this is how you process shit. This is how you show each other how much you mean to each other. How much you trust each other. Things have been hard between you two the past month; constant bickering and straight up fist fights; but the love never left. The want and desire that fueled this from the start. That will never not be there. 

“You need my cock, boy?” He whispers against your mouth. You nod and he grabs at the top of your hair and yanks your head back. “I asked you a question.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” You whimper. Ian smiles down at you with this Cheshire Cat like grin and you swear you almost cum just from that. He’s going to wreck you tonight just like you want. 

He reaches back for the lube you stash under the pillow and even though he says you’re only getting spit tonight, the way he intends to fuck you won't be accomplished with just that. You keep your eyes shut and you’re panting and you grab your legs under your knees to display yourself for him and you can hear the wet sounds of him lubing his cock and he runs his finger over your stretched hole and presses in gently. “Fuck your needy tonight.” 

“For you, Daddy.” 

He grabs you by your thighs and pulls you across the bed to him and is inside you so fucking fast you choke on the gasp of air you inhale as he gets almost all of his 9 inches in with one push of his hips and before you can even get air back into your lungs his hand is around your neck and your eyes roll back into your head. He gets all of himself inside you and stills, just keeping you impaled on his cock and he leans down and presses his lips to your open mouth; gasping for breath like a fish out of water. 

“This? Is this what you were asking for, Mick?” 

You can only gargle a choking answer to him and he starts pumping his hips; jack hammering himself inside you like he can't fuck you hard enough. He’s panting against your mouth and your heels are digging into his lower back and he’s choking you with one hand and ripping your hair out with the other and your chests are sliding together with sweat and you have never felt more like his. More loved. And you know somewhere, in the grand psychology of life this is probably really fucked up, but you don’t care. This is who you are. This is how you feel things. How you handle all the shit inside yourself that no one sees. Even Ian. But the thing about Ian is, the thing you think that really makes you love him, is that he doesn’t need to ask. He doesn’t need to know why. He just gives you what you need. It’s unnerving in a way for someone to know you so deeply. So intimately. But what you said all those years ago is true. Ian makes you free. And you’re fucking flying right now with freedom. 

He eases up on your windpipe just in time before you black out and you cough and gasp for air as you swallow it back into your body. He presses his lips to your forehead; it’s another centering thing he does because he knows where you are mentally right now; and you cling to him; wrapping yourself entirely around him as he never stops the thrusting of his hips into you. 

“Fuck you feel good. I don’t know how but you’re always so tight around my cock, Mick. Do you know how near impossible it is not to fucking cum the second I’m inside you?” He pushes deep, so fucking deep inside you and it’s right on your prostate and you scream, throwing your head back and clenching your jaw at the wave of pleasure he’s assaulted into your body. “That’s it. Let me hear you. Show Daddy how fucking good it feels to be fucked.” 

You’re meeting every thrust he gives you, needing him deeper, deeper, somehow. You know he can’t go any deeper; his balls are practically being sucked into your ass as it is; but you both try, you always try, thinking this will be the time his dick will magically grow longer. His hair is stuck to his forehead like streaks of fire and you reach up to brush it back. He leans into the touch and bring his mouth down to yours in a deep and pressing kiss. He moans into your mouth and lies down fully on top of you and starts giving just little pushes of his hips as his cock is so deep still, there’s really nowhere else for it to go. 

“I need to cum.” You plead and he leans up on his elbows, his hands framing your neck, fingers rubbing the spot behind your ear. 

“I get to cum first. Daddy’s rules, you know that. But you’re gonna jerk off while I eat my load out of your ass.” 

Your cock jerks at that and you have to reach between your bodies to hold the base of your dick so you don’t unload. He chuckles against your mouth before sitting up and pulling your legs over his shoulders. It's his favorite position. He likes to watch your face and the way your skin reddens as he fucks you. He likes to hold onto your thighs as he gets your ass almost entirely off the bed so he can hit your spot with every thrust. He says he likes the meat of your thighs and how strong they are and it gets him off in seconds. His thrusts are rough and fast and your head is hanging off the end of the bed and your hands are flailing to grab onto something. 

“Pinch your nipples for me.” He demands and your hands fly to your chest and you squeeze them between your fingers, twisting and yanking on them, maybe a little too hard, but the whole pain and pleasure thing is so blurred right now you barely feel it. 

“That’s it. Fuck. Good boy. Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Open your eyes. Look at me.” 

You lift your head as much as you can and look directly in his eyes and fuck, he looks almost demonic. He’s just fucking you with abandon and there are gonna be bruises on your thighs and he’s close, he’s so fucking close, you can feel it with how hard his dick is inside you and he needs to cum just as bad as you do so there’s only one thing left to do. 

“Fill me up, Daddy, like the cum slut I am.” 

Ian isn't a loud orgasmer. In fact, he’s actually pretty quiet considering all the fucking dirty talk he likes to shell out. But this time, the sounds that escape his throat are unlike anything you’ve ever heard before and you realize as out of body as you are, so is he. He’s completely lost himself this time. He has no control left in him and feel his dick spasm inside you and there’s warmth and wetness filling your walls and you have to hold the base of your cock again to keep yourself from shooting. He lets out a few little growls as he finishes and licks his bottom lip as he looks down at you. He’s a fucking monster right now and you don’t know if you’ve ever been so turned on. 

“I think I just pumped like two fucking loads in you.” He shivers one last post orgasmic shudder and pulls out slowly. But you keep your legs up and he leans down and touches your rim softly. “Fuck. All used up. And fucking dirty. Do I need to clean you up, Mick?” 

“Please.” You need to cum like 10 minutes ago, but there are rules and you’re following these. You don’t normally do rules, but when it comes to this, you know it will be worth it. 

His mouth seals around your abused hole and you wrap your legs around his head and ride his face. Your hands are spreading your ass cheeks so he can really get his tongue in there and you realize he told you to jerk off and your mind races for a few seconds on how the hell you’re going to be able to do that, but then his mouth leaves your ass and he’s hovering over your cock and he opens his mouth to show you his load just sitting on his tongue. You gape at him and bring your hand to his mouth and he spits it into your open palm. You slide your cum filled hand down over your cock and it only takes 3 fucking jerks before you’re cumming and his lips are wrapped around your tip swallowing every drop. You drop your legs and your head is still hanging off the bed and he lays his head against your crotch as you both come back to reality. 

That, by far, was the filthiest thing the two of you have ever done. Not kinkiest, but down right filthy. 

“Fuck, Mick.” 

“Yeah.” You move your body to the side so you can get your head back up on the bed and he shifts to, but never moves his head off you. You run your fingers through his short hair and he practically purrs against your skin. 

“That what you wanted?” He sounds so fucked out. You smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“Mm. Good.” He kisses your pelvic bone but just lies back down against your stomach. Your legs are on fire and so is your ass and fuck your nipples hurt now, but you feel so fucking good. Fuck heroin. Who needs that shit when you got Ian fucking Gallagher? 

“Hey, Mick?” 

“Hmm?” 

“The Jonas Brothers got nothing on you.” 

You laugh and tug on his hair. “Fucking right they don’t.”


End file.
